<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Narcissa Project by DeviantHufflepuff</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29910480">The Narcissa Project</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeviantHufflepuff/pseuds/DeviantHufflepuff'>DeviantHufflepuff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Azkaban, Bureaucracy, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned violence, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Physical Abuse, Prison, Sexual Abuse, mentioned rape/non-con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:47:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,068</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29910480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeviantHufflepuff/pseuds/DeviantHufflepuff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione decides to visit Narcissa in Azkaban and is forced to confront how broken the prison system is.</p><p>WARNING!<br/>This story involves non-graphic mentions of sexual, physical, and emotional abuse. Please read with caution. The abuse detailed has been researched and is taken from real-life events.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger &amp; Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger &amp; Harry Potter, Hermione Granger &amp; Lucius Malfoy, Hermione Granger &amp; Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>International Witches Day</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Narcissa Project</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/International_Witches_Day">International_Witches_Day</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>Prompt:</strong>
</p><p>The Woman Prison Association is the nation's first organization for women impacted by incarceration. We address the root causes of systems involvement, know the data, and are focused on the needs and nuances of individuals. We believe women are the experts in their own lives. We partner with women to use our collective voice and experience to drive change that positively impacts families, communities, and society. We envision a society where our reliance on incarceration has been replaced by constructive, community-driven responses.</p><p> If you would like more information on the Women's Prison Association, click<a href="https://www.wpaonline.org/">Here</a> to check out their website</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Four months passed since the Malfoys Were thrown into Azkaban. The Wizengaomt tried Draco as a minor, and therefore, he narrowly escaped Azkaban. Instead, he paid a large fine,  completed community service, and started his mandatory Muggle Studies courses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since Narcissa’s conviction,  Harry and Hermione worked tirelessly to free her, but they found roadblocks at every turn. Both wrote to her, needing any bit of information they could get, but no replies came. Even Draco had not heard from his mother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s determination never faltered. The world would be far worse if Narcissa did not dare to lie to Voldemort. Selfishly, she only cared that, because of Narcissa Malfoy, and her love for her son, Hermione still had the boy she considered a brother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She walked through the bleak stone halls of Azkaban, determined to find the woman she believed innocent. Though the guards laughed at her request, she would not be deterred.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A large man followed too closely behind her. The sounds of women sobbing and begging for mercy rang through the building. It pained her to keep moving, but followed course Finally, they came to a cell at the end of the corridor. Looking inside, Hermione saw nothing but a plate of food and a pile of rags.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have a visitor, Lady Malfoy,” the guard sneered. The barred door opened and Hermione stepped inside, still unable to find Narcissa.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t be here, Miss Granger.” Hermione jumped as the pile of cloth spoke. Taking a closer look, she saw what became of the once esteemed Malfoy Matriarch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Where once laid perfectly straight shiny locks, hung tangled, dull mats of hair caked in blood and dirt. Hermione wondered about her last shower, and what prevented her from cleaning herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The striped smock hung loosely around her frame. It was thin and tattered, leaving her exposed to the harsh elements outside her cell. Hermione could see the way her bones pressed tightly against her skin. Turning around, Hermione looked at the plate of food in the corner and back to the underweight woman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here, let me,” Hermione walked to the plate, moments from picking it up when she heard Mrs Malfoy behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t eat it. I will not give them the satisfaction.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione looked down at the food, trying to put together what Mrs Malfoy meant. The small pile of potatoes and spinach sat in their sections of the plate, across from it, a small chicken breast. As she looked closer, the noticed a sauce on all three foods, a thin white sauce that looked suspiciously–</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Has this happened at every meal?” Her blood boiled as she began putting the pieces together. The guards who were all too happy to mock the Malfoy witch were taking advantage of her lowered status, trying to degrade her further.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not every meal, I think. But I rarely take the chance.” No matter her exterior, her eyes still blazed with a fire Hermione doubted any meek little wizard could douse. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t try.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why haven’t you showered, Mrs Malfoy?” The older witches eye’s closed and her jaw clenched. “I don’t mean to make you upset, I just want to help. I want to free you,” she hurriedly said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is a group of men defiling my food. What do you think will happen if they find me, nude and alone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No matter what Hermione experienced during the war, her naïveté still managed to shock her. The violence and death no longer surprised her, but the thought of someone touching a woman, no, any person, without consent was so heinous, it failed to cross her mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They can’t do that!” She sounded more like a child than she had in years, but nothing else came to mind. They just couldn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Granger, they can and they will. I am not the first and I will not be the last. I am not even the only one on this floor. You are wasting your time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione watched as Narcissa walked over to what must be her bed. It was stained and springs stuck on in some places. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Draco? How is my son?” Her voice broke, and Hermione could see her back moving as if holding back sobs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He misses you. His community servicing is going well and he is excelling in his Muggle Studies. I have helped tutor him and he seems to be enjoying them. He is excited to learn how to drive. I think he just wants an excuse to buy one of the fancy cars he saw when Harry and I took him into London.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Narcissa laughed, “That sounds like him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He writes to you every day, but he says you don’t write back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Narcissa turned back to look at Hermione in shock.“I have never received any letters. I would not refuse him. Please make sure he knows that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Narcissa, once again, faced the wall, refusing to look at Hermione. Her hands rubbed down her thin arms, goosebumps visible on her skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He isn’t a good man–Lucius–but I love him, and I always will,” she said in a soft voice, no more than a whisper. “You know, Miss Ganger. I have only ever been with my husband. He was the only man to see my body, until a few months ago. I chose him to be my only. I didn’t need to, I could have had many others, but I only wanted him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Narcissa turned back to Hermione, she saw tears cutting through the grime caked to her cheeks. Hermione nodded. She didn’t understand how Narcissa could feel that way, but she did know that love wasn’t exactly sane.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I made my choice, to follow him as he followed a mad man. Now, I am paying the price.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! I won’t accept that!” A fire raged inside of Hermione. “You made mistakes but that doesn’t make </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> ok!” She began pacing the small cell, her mind moving a mile a minute, trying to find a solution. She was meant to be the smart one, the one with all the answers, but the only answer in her mind involved taking her wand to anyone who harmed any of the prisoners.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t it?” Narcissa walked up to Hermione and took her hands in her own, the layer of grime and bruising marring her once porcelain skin. “Go, and don’t come back. You don’t need to worry about any of this. Just go live your life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cell door opened and Hermione walked out in a daze. She moved slowly through the corridor, taking notice of each cell she passed. The women inside were in no better shape than Narcissa. Their clothing did little to protect them from the chill blowing in from the sea, and she could see the women shaking from some horrid mixture of cold and fear. Each woman shared the same matted hair and layer of filth on their skin, likely meaning they also refused to shower under the guards' watch. It was impossible to look into some cells, as a privacy spell blocked doors, but Hermione swore she could hear the sounds of sobs and gagging behind the cloud of black blocking the cell’s door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wondered if the sounds of women begging were directed toward the dementors or if something much more heinous was happening to them while she walked passed, doing nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Hermione couldn’t remember leaving the prison. She had no memory of going home, showering, or changing. For the first time, her mind was truly blank as she grappled with the realities she saw today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Each year, since she was eleven, Hermione saw that authority was corruptible, and that the people in charge, who held any power over anyone else, could use that power to harm. Still, she could barely hold her mind together as the pieces of her visit fit into place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laying in bed, Hermione sobbed for the women she saw, and more so for the ones she couldn’t see. She screamed, cried, and raged for the pain and humiliation they were subjected to until Harry ran into the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For hours, she sobbed into her brother's arms, trying to tell him what she saw between gasps of breath. The two wallowed together, crying for the world they lived in, the world they fought for and almost died for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They fell into a fitful sleep together, tear tracks running down both their faces. In the back of Hermione's head, she knew she would need to do something, but tonight, she needed to grieve for these women. Tomorrow, she would fight for them.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>She woke with a start the next morning, her eyes crusty, red, and stinging. The previous night emotionally exhausted her, but her mind was once again alert. Beside her, Harry was curled up in a tight ball, as he usually did when he was in any form of distress. He said it reminded him of his cupboard, taking up less space made him feel safe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For now, she would let him sleep. She went about her morning routine; washing her face, brushing her teeth, etc. and then grabbing a notebook and pen, she walked down to the kitchen to have some coffee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She needed a plan and resources behind her. She knew she could count on money and support from Harry, as he spent a large amount of time looking for charities to give money to after the war. She also felt Draco Malfoy would donate anything he could to help his mother, and in all likelihood, his father too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione only saw one floor of the women’s side of the prison, but that did not mean the men inside were not receiving similarly inhumane treatment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wrote a list of potential allies, people who could give money or lend their political and social standing to her cause. This list consisted of members of the DA as well as many of the children of Death Eaters, whose parents were currently behind bars.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She spent the morning writing to each of them personally. Detailing the things she saw, what she inferred from her interactions with the guards, and what she fears most of all. She begged them for any support they could give her, gave them her and Harry’s floo address, and invited them to come speak to her, ask questions, and let her know what they were willing to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last letter had been sent out when Harry walked down the stairs, looking just as tired as she felt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what are we going to do?” This is what Hermione loved most about Harry. He moved straight to the plan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he fixed himself a coffee and topped hers off while she told him about the letters. Then together, they made plans A-C. They could, hopefully, do much more for the people currently behind bars, but, after many years of hair-brained plans, they needed to think practically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did mother say!” Draco shouted from the floo, still encased in green flames. His already pale skin looked almost translucent, a sickly green tint coloured his face. Even at the Battle of Hogwarts, she had not seen him so frightened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She didn’t get your letters, Draco,” she told him as he stepped out of the floor and collapsed at the table next to her. “I don’t know if they are not making it to Azkaban or if they are being kept from her, but she wanted me to tell you, she would never ignore you. She loves you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco broke down in tears as Hermione told him more of what she saw. She tried to emphasize the fire that would not dull in his mother’s eyes as they spoke, but that did not mean much when she spent her days surrounded by monsters who seemed to want nothing more than to douse her flames in water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they spoke more people came through the floo, demanding answers, wanting to help, and asking that, if she visited again, she would check on their mothers and fathers. The Slytherins present; Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Gregory Goyle, all asked her to give letters to their parents as, like Draco, their many letters had gone unanswered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon, the small sitting room and kitchen were overflowing with people, all outraged at what Hermione sent them. The members of the DA were loudly cursing the foul way the incarcerated people were being treated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One by one, each person approached Hermione, going over what they could offer to help. The old families; Nott, Malfoy, Parkinson, Greengrass, Potter, and Longbottom, gave her astronomically large sums of Galleons, together acceding a number beyond Hermione's mental capability. Many of them also held seats on the Wizengamot, and promised to use their status to her advantage when the time came. Luna offered to write pieces in the Quibbler, using what Hermione saw and any information she could get from inmates to stoke public outcry. Ron promised to stand by her and Harry, so the ‘Golden Trio’ persona could support the cause.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Those who did not have the money or public persona offered any time they could give. They promised to speak to anyone that would listen, they would stand with her, or wait outside of Ministry offices, demanding to be seen and heard. They would be her feet on the ground. Some, like the Greengrass sisters, would also help write proposals and legal documents, as they were taught to do so from a young age.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, with a team in hand and a mission, Hermione made her way to Gringotts with anyone willing to take out money and place it in one combined new vault.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they first entered Gringotts, the Goblins were less than pleased to see her and Harry, but that changed quickly when the rest of their crew, people who owned the largest vaults in Gringotts, came into view.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After hours of paperwork, a business bank account was made, consisting of more money than Hermione had ever seen, under the name “The Narcissa Project.” That would not be the name, but it worked for now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The final piece of paperwork at Gringotts shocked Hermione— when Draco handed over the deed to Black Manor. The Manor consisted of ten full bedrooms, sixteen staff bedrooms, many offices, drawing rooms, and dens that could be converted easily into living spaces, and twenty acres of land. The perfect place to rehome and rehabilitate the inmates who were being mistreated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the deed and a bank statement, Hermione went back to Grimmauld Place to speak with Luna. In the opposite room, Draco worked with the Greengrass sister to write a proposal to open a new prison, one that would replace Azkaban and focus on helping the inmates, instead of allowing them to suffer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Far away, in Cotswold, carpenter wizards were building two extra structures to house inmates. In the main Manor, the Malfoy and Nott elves were cleaning and readying the rooms for new inhabitants. Hermione did not love the idea of elf labour going into this project, but conceded that the faster the manor was ready, the faster they could move the prisoners into the cleaner and safer environment.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day, Hermione went back to Azkaban with a plan. She walked to Narcissa’s cell, escorted by a guard. She hoped that, like last time, no one came to collect her, and she could use this to her advantage. But first, she visited Narcissa, giving her a note from her son, food, and the potions she needed, smuggled in her little beaded bag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They spoke for a short while before Hermione got up to visit the other inmates. Before she left, she gave Narcissa sheets of paper and a Muggle pen, asking her to write in detail the things she endured since being imprisoned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She then visited the other women on the floor, giving them any supplies needed and, like Narcissa, asking them to share their experience with her, in hope that it would free them from the hell they were currently in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, when she thought she took too much time, she left the women, promising to come back the next day, and made her way to the men's side of the prison.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stench gagged her as she walked towards Lucius Malfoy’s cell. Stale sweat, piss, vomit, and shit permeated the air, making her eyes water. She could not fathom how anyone dealt with it and was about to ask the guard. She turned to look at him, disgusted to see that he performed a bubble-head charm on himself. He knew how it smelled, but didn't care enough to try and clean the air, though all it would take is a wave of his wand. But no, he would prefer to leave the inmates to deal with the odour.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wished she had her wand on her, she didn’t know if she would clean the air or hex the guard first, but either way, accomplishing both would happen quite quickly. Behind her, she could see the sick, sadistic smile on the man’s face behind the bubble of clean air, but she refused to acknowledge it, at least not yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucius’ cell was no different than his wife’s, small, damp, and cold. He wore a similar smock as everyone else, but he had blood dried into the side of it. His face was bruised and battered, and his hands were covered in small cuts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without a word, Hermione began pulling potions and balms out of her bag to heal him. Lucius did not even move when she began cleaning the wounds on his hands, though the potion would have stung on contact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She worked in silence, wiping down and cleaning his skin before dabbing her balms and potions over the visible bruises and cuts all over his body. Once what she could see was sufficiently healed, she looked up at her friend's father.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no love lost between her and Lucius Malfoy, but that didn’t matter. Looking at him, her heart broke. There was no fire in his eyes, she could only just see the slightest light of recognition behind them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just came from Narcissa’s cell, Lucius. I spent all of yesterday with Draco and this morning with Narcissa. They miss you.” She waited for her words to sink in patiently. Slowly, something shone behind his eyes. It was dim, but something was there that wasn’t before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They miss me?” he said in a rough and raw voice. She could tell he had been yelling at some point recently. She tried to not focus on why that would be. She could process that all later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They do. Draco and I are going to get you out of here. All of you. But you need to do something for me, for Draco. But first, are there any other cuts or bruises that I can’t see that need to be healed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucius looked torn between allowing her to help or hiding his pain. His discomfort took precedence because he turned around and lifted the smock over his head, and Hermione turned away for a moment so he could keep his modesty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You may turn back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bruises littered his ribs and torso, a mix of old, green-yellow bruises and new purple and red coloured his once alabaster skin. His arse and thighs were much the same, but she could see more scrapes and cuts there. Lucius held the balled up smock over his crotch, hiding as much of himself as he could, while still giving her access to his injuries.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She worked diligently, cleaning and healing as best she could. She was thankful the injuries were all things she could heal. If the injuries were more severe she would have been forced to leave him in pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They heal the broken bones they break, but leave the bruises.” His voice was dull as he spoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” He couldn’t have used Legilimency on her, without a wand and, likely, a depleted magical core. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gryffindors. Your faces are open books.” A hint of a smirk crossed his face. A ghost of his former self.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who is ‘they,’  Lucius? The guards or fellow inmates?” Unlike Narcissa, she did not want to stick around too long speaking to Lucius. She would do everything she could to help him, but between their volatile past and the current smell, she did not want to be here longer than necessary.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Granger. Don’t waste your time. I am—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your son wrote you a letter.” Hermione fished the note from Draco out of her beaded bag and handed it to Lucius. “Before you try and dismiss me, read what your son has to say.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucius held the note like a precious relic or priceless antique. Hermione looked through her bag, organizing the many things she brought to try and give him some semblance of privacy. She did not know what Draco wrote to his parents, but she watched him right before she left with the letters, and saw his tears running down his cheeks with each scratch of his quill.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She heard Lucius his ragged breath behind her, as he read and possibly reread the letter from his son. Moments passed, it may have been minutes or hours, but finally, she heard Lucius speak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is usually the guards. Sometimes another inmate, but I am rarely let out of the cell so I don’t have to deal with them very often.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she turned to face him, his eyes were rimmed red.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lucius, you don’t have to say anything to me. But if you and any other inmates could write down what is happening to you in here I could use that to help you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The muscles in Lucius’ jaw clenched tightly as she spoke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I understand that you don’t want people knowing what has happened to you. But this could free you from here. Could free your wife and countless other people who are being hurt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She reached into her beaded bag once more and pulled out food, wipes, parchment, and a pen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is there anyone else on this floor that you think would be willing to speak, or write, about what is happening to them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucius sat there silent for a while, and Hermione was convinced he would not do anything to help himself. She made her way towards the door, planning to leave and deliver letters to the other Slytherin’s fathers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everyone on this row has a son or daughter to get home to. I can’t know for certain, Miss Granger, but for the opportunity to see their family again they might just do it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, Hermione made her way down the row of incarcerated men, many of whom were the fathers of people who pledged to help her. She gave them each their letters, the medical assistance they needed and food that they hadn’t been granted before asking for their stories.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the most part, they had the same reaction as Lucius; they said she was wasting her time or that they deserved the treatment they received. In the end, all the men took the parchment she gave.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once again, she arrived at Grimmauld Place in a daze, however this time she was not alone. Harry, Luna, and Draco sat in the living room together, three glasses of wine and a plate of cookies sat on the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They looked at her, and once again she broke out into tears. She allowed Harry to carry her upstairs. Then, while she continued to cry, Luna helped her out of the now disgusting clothing and got her shower hot and ready. Across the hall, Draco went into Harry’s room and stole an old Quidditch jersey and sweatpants for her to wear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once more, she grieved and wallowed for those she saw today. This was her time to break, because the only way she could stay strong for them, would be to let herself feel every bit of pain in her heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After telling him she didn’t want to be alone, Harry sat outside of the shower while she washed. His steadfast presence calmed her as she scrubbed the sweat and stickiness off her skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she was clean and dressed, the three went back downstairs and Hermione curled up next to Harry and recounted her day. Across from them, Luna and Draco were sitting together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They love you and miss you so much, Draco.” Tears ran down her face as she spoke. “They were so happy to get your letters, I think they helped them so much. Especially your father. His eyes lit up when he heard that you missed him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco and Harry were crying with her now, and Luna held back tears as she wrote everything Hermione said down. They knew this would be emotionally taxing for them, but having each other to lean on would make it a bit easier. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every day for a month, Hermione went to Azkaban, under the guise of visiting only the Malfoys. She came with more food, potions, warm blankets, hairbrushes, wet-wipes, and hygiene products hidden in her little beaded bag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Each morning, the Slytherins would come to her with letters written for their parents and each day, she received two letters in return from their parents, one for her, that recounted any abuses they endured or witnessed and another that was just for their children.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At night, she would come home to find Luna and Draco with Harry. After the first week, the two just came to live at Grimmauld with them. Once Hermione was clean, she would hand the letters over and recount her day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It became easier, she no longer crumbled when she came home, but she would never be able to stomach what she saw completely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Behind the scenes, Draco and Theodore worked with their lawyers to get their prison established, but it moved slowly. Luna began printing stories every day and they had been growing in popularity. Many people were outraged and over the past month, and over that time they gained more supporters. However, others did not believe that people who committed any crimes were worthy of fair treatment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guards tried to bar her from entering the prison, but legally they could not. Since the article started, the abuse slowed, though not truly coming to a stop. They were worried about getting caught.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Each time she visited, she could hear the sneers and disgusting comments they made about her behind her back. She knew the guards called her a ‘Death Eater whore,’ but she did not care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione felt stuck, like she failed the people she promised to help. She had done almost everything she could think to do, except one thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, she used her last resort. The next morning, instead of going to Azkaban, she sent Harry and spent the morning screaming, standing in front of Kingsley’s secretary, demanding to see the Minister.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He really is busy, Miss Granger,” his secretary said, meekly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I was busy at school when I went to fight a bloody war! He can make time!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But, he… I can’t—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Jenny. Miss Granger, please come in,” Kingsley said, walking in from behind her and opening the door to his office.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is about Azkaban, right?” Kingsley sat at his desk and began opening drawers and fishing out paperwork.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes! And I will not allow this to continue any longer! I have written testimonies, my memories, and a solution in place but your fucking employees won’t let anything through. I swear I will burn this—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Before you threaten a Government official, let me give you this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A large packet of papers was handed to her, on the top were the words ‘By Order of the Minister for Magic’ and below that, the outline for her criminal rehabilitation centre.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you still going to burn down the Ministry?”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Days later the prisoners were moved out of Azkaban. Their first day out was spent with healers, getting potions, health scans, and any treatments they needed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were moved into Black Manor and able to see their children and spouses after their healer gave them a clean bill of health.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, no matter how hard they tried, none of the guards were found guilty of abuse. Small things, like having incorrect dates for the events that happened, kept these men free. No accounting for the fact that, while in Azkaban, many people didn’t keep track of the days of the week, let alone the date.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It still made Hermione want to scream, thinking about those men walking free, but she tried to focus on what good she could do. The inmates at the newly opened ‘Phoenix Criminal Rehabilitation Institute’ were doing well, all finally safe and being treated with the dignity they deserved. And, though Hermione was hailed as their saviour by many, deep in her heart she knew, they freed themselves. They were brave enough to share their stories, and it was because of that bravery that no one in Wizarding Britain would ever have to live through the disgusting abuses that were happening in Azkaban. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Narcissa stalked through the halls of the once decrepit Black Manor, now, “The Phoenix Criminal Rehabilitation Institute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Walburga Black would be losing her mind if she could hear the classes and activities the inmates participated in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Hermione came to Azkaban three years ago, intending to free her, Narcissa already resigned herself to her fate. It only took only a little over a month for that little witch to shut down the prison that became nothing more than a torture palace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wept when she saw her son standing next to Hermione and Harry. When she learned he took part in rescuing her and so many others, she had never been more proud. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her sentence was shortened, but she still served a year’s sentence. That first year at Phoenix was spent in Muggle studies classes, helping repair the manor, without magic, and learning new skills, once again without magic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When her sentence was fulfilled, she immediately applied for a job with Phoenix. She now assisted in Muggle Studies classes alongside Hermione and taught the painting classes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her Lucius was still incarcerated but would be released in 2 years. Until that time, she would see him every day, and help him grow, so they could do better, together. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much to all the incredible people who participated in this fest! You all amaze and inspire me &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>